


i push you out (and you come right back)

by okrableach



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Coming of Age, Dry Humping, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Pining, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, oikawa is so hot... no thoughts head empty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:22:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okrableach/pseuds/okrableach
Summary: ”I’m saying that I can’t have you touching me like last night anymore. At least not without wanting more. Needing more. I can’t.”
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 8
Kudos: 135





	i push you out (and you come right back)

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this at a café, no joke.

”We’re way too old for this.” 

Elbows dig into Hajime’s ribs harshly; both to silence him but also to make him scoot over. There isn’t much room in his twin-bed, but Hajime still moves until his back hits the wall behind him, leaving some breathing room between Oikawa and his bodies. Hajime tells himself that he does it to help silence the harsh roar thrumming against his ears and not because Oikawa asked him to. 

”There’s no such thing as being too old for _anything_ , stupid.” Oikawa’s tone resembles the one he uses when he tries to put up a show for their competitors—patronizing hidden underneath layers of faux sweetness. Surprisingly, he still takes the time to explain himself. ”It’s too cold to sleep on your floor.” 

”Wear warmer clothes then.” Hajime is too tired to argue with him, but who would he be if he didn’t put up some kind of a fight at least? 

”Iwa-chan, always so cruel.” Even in the midnight darkness that surrounds them, Hajime can still pick up the way Oikawa’s bottom lip juts out in a dissatisfied pout. Because Hajime is so tired, he allows himself to imagine what it would feel like to take that bottom lip between his teeth and bite down on it. 

”Just go to sleep, Oikawa,” Hajime breathes out, and closes his eyes before he does something stupid like lean over to test out the theory of whether Oikawa’s lips are as soft as they look or not. 

”I’m still too cold,” Oikawa whines. Before Hajime gets a chance to feel annoyed at yet another failed attempt at sleeping, Oikawa sneaks his hands underneath his t-shirt and places them flat right against his abs. 

_Oh_. 

A full-body shiver courses through Hajime’s body. It’s so violent that Oikawa must’ve felt it, and judging by the gasp that escapes his lips, he surely did. Hajime wants to blame his reaction on the coldness of his hands or the chill air that slips in underneath his t-shirt alongside his hands, but all the words escape his brain. Instead, he lies as still as he can while trying to regulate his breathing.

Just as his heart rate begins to slow down to an acceptable pace, Oikawa speaks: ”It doesn’t have to mean anything, you know.” 

All the hard work Hajime put into stabilizing his heart rate renders useless as it picks up just as quickly again. This time feeling uncomfortably heavy instead of being rose-colored and warm like it was earlier. If he were to compare the two, the first one would be like the feeling of seeing the ball hit the other side of the net as a result of one of his spikes while the second one would resemble the way his heart feels when they lose a game they surely thought they would win. ”What?” 

”Friends can cuddle. It doesn’t have to mean anything if we don’t want it to.” 

To further prove his point, Oikawa starts caressing the hard skin on his abs with careful thumbs, and Hajime can’t help but think how cruel it is. It’s cruel because Hajime doesn’t _feel_ like they’re just friends. None of the other team members make his hands shake just by looking at him. No compliment he receives makes his cheeks feel like they’re on fire unless they’re from Oikawa. Only Oikawa’s smile manages to introduce butterflies in his stomach. That must mean something; it has to. 

Can it mean something if it’s only felt by him, though? 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Hajime locks eyes with Oikawa. ”Oik-” 

Oikawa interrupts him with a sigh that tickles his cheek ever so slightly. He shifts underneath the comforter to get more comfortable and closes his eyes all while his hands are still on Hajime’s burning skin. ”Let’s just sleep, alright?” 

A silent _let’s talk about this in the morning_ fills the air with tension. Staring at the relaxed features on Oikawa’s face, Hajime moves around until he’s comfortable as well. If Oikawa doesn’t want to address it, neither will he. At a moment's weakness, he places his hand on his waist and brings them closer until their chests are touching. If it doesn’t have to mean anything, why not take it all the way? Besides, everything around them feels cold except for the area where their bodies are connected. Hajime is simply warming his body up in this January coldness.

The last thing he remembers before he falls asleep is the irregular pattern Oikawa traces on his skin. 

* * *

When Hajime wakes up, he finds the other side of his bed devoid of the warmth that was there just hours ago. His sheets are crumbled up against his body as if Oikawa thought they could replicate his comfort. They can’t. Not even close. Pushing them aside with unnecessary vigor, Hajime hops out of bed and begins his conquest to find his lost best friend. It’s way too early for him to start practicing volleyball and there isn’t any smell of food drifting around in the air, so it can only mean one thing: the garden.

After finishing his business in the bathroom, Hajime pulls on a random hoodie and makes his way to the garden outside his home. When they were younger, they used to spend long hours sitting on the grass and playing with Pokémon cards. When they grew older, the garden became the place where they’d sit and talk about everything between volleyball and aliens’ existence. It still looks the same after all these years with the same rusted playground equipment, scattered benches, and the large fountain right in the center. Even the sight of Oikawa by the swings, barely drifting in the air, is the same. 

The only thing that’s different is the way Hajime’s heart reacts to Oikawa wearing one of his jackets. 

”Oi, Oikawa. What are you doing here so early?” 

Oikawa whips his head around as if someone splashed cold water down his neck. His eyes find Hajime and the confusion at the intrusion melts into recognition. ”I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.” 

Hajime walks the rest of the way to the swings and plops down on the one next to Oikawa’s. They outgrew the swings years ago. The chains holding the seat up digs into their thighs uncomfortably, yet they still chose to sit there instead of the perfectly fine benches just a few steps away. For a while, the only sound in the garden is the clank from the chains straining against the metal of the frame. The world around them has yet to awaken, leaving them with this vast emptiness laid out between them. 

”Why are _you_ here?” Oikawa asks when Hajime doesn’t make an attempt at striking up a conversation. 

Hajime shrugs. ”You weren’t there when I woke up.” 

”Iwa-chan, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were missing my presence.” 

”Please,” Hajime scoffs and kicks his feet up to start swinging. The ache in his thighs becomes much worse when he moves around, but he ignores it. ”Don’t flatter yourself too much.” 

”I wouldn’t dare to do such a thing.” Oikawa begins to swing as well. He eyes Hajime with a look that can only mean one thing—a challenge. 

Picking up what Oikawa is putting down, Hajime kicks his feet up higher until he’s so high up in the air that the swing threatens to do a full spin. Mixed in between his child-like laughter is Oikawa’s as well and it feels so good. Being weighed down by the heavy burden of college applications, volleyball tournaments and the uncertainty about his future has made moments like these appear far apart. He hasn’t felt like a child in what feels like years, and it’s kind of funny how Oikawa is the one who makes him feel like that again. 

Their laughter is too loud for the early am’s and the close-by neighbors must hate them so much right now, but Hajime keeps on laughing. He laughs so hard that he accidentally fumbles down the swing and proceeds to fall down on the rough sand underneath them. Then, he laughs some more. 

”I won,” Oikawa snickers from his place on the swing after his laughter dies out. He looks down at Hajime with bright eyes that put the sun behind them to shame. Wordlessly, he reaches his hand out to Hajime to help him up. 

Hajime grabs his hand and pulls himself up. As much as he still wants to hold his hand, the sand all over his body feels uncomfortable so he drops the hand to shake off the lingering gravel. He has half a heart to reach out for his best friend again but refrains from it. Instead, he sits down on the swing again. 

”It’s been a while since we’ve done something like this, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, voice sounding reminiscent. He’s facing the playground in front of them as if he’s remembering the days where they’d run around here with their little bodies. 

”It’s because we’re too old for things like this, Shittykawa.” 

It’s the same words he used last night which makes a sense of deja-vu hit Hajime right in the chest. The irony of using their childhood nicknames doesn’t surpass him either but he figures if there’s any time where it’s acceptable to use them, it would be this one right now. 

Oikawa turns to face him. ”You always say that. Why are you so persistent about this?” 

”One of us has to be the mature one,” Hajime jokes but it sounds flat even to his own ears. Sighing, he averts his eyes to stare at his dirty sneakers. They might protect him from Oikawa’s mysterious gaze. ”It’s because you keep doing these… _things_. Things that were okay when we were younger but aren’t anymore.” 

Oikawa’s voice sounds weird when he speaks. It’s as if gravel has filled his throat and the sound waves containing his words find it difficult to squeeze through them. ”What do you mean?” 

Hajime doesn’t mean to be angry, but irritation sparks up inside of him like a flickering flame. If he focuses hard enough, he thinks he can smell the smoke rising from his lungs. ”You can’t just go around wearing my clothes or sleep in my bed as we used to when we were younger, idiot. It doesn’t work like that anymore,” he snaps, tone containing the sharpness that usually resides in Oikawa’s voice. 

When Hajime dares to steal a look at Oikawa, he finds his eyes already on him. They’re wide open since he’s probably taken back at the unprompted vigor thrown at him. That look only stays in his eyes for a short second before they narrow down. ”It doesn’t have to mean anything, Iwa-chan. It’s just us.” 

Hajime doesn’t regard the desperation in his voice. He can’t if he wants to protect himself. Because at the end of the day, that’s the only reason why Hajime‘s so goddamn stubborn about this. The shift between them might be unnoticeable to Oikawa, but it isn’t to Hajime. Every lingering touch burns his skin pleasantly, every word he receives is engraved in his mind and every stolen gaze replays in his mind like a broken record. This isn’t what friendship is. He knows friendship. More specifically, he has felt what friendship with Oikawa is like and this right here isn’t that. 

It’s more. It means something. It has to.

”But what if it does? Have you ever considered that?” Hajime raises up from the swing, suddenly pissed at the way the chains dig at his thighs. He looms over Oikawa’s body. If anyone were to watch them, they’d think that Hajime was threatening him even if the truth is far from it. 

”Iwa-chan, if you think too hard when you don’t have a brain, you’re going to end up hurting your head.” Oikawa’s eyelashes flutter against each other, once, then twice, before he lifts his head to stare at Hajime’s looming posture. 

”Stop fucking around, Oikawa. I’ll kill you.” 

Oikawa clicks his tongue as he leaves his seat from the swing as well. Standing up makes _him_ tower over Hajime, which feels both familiar but also intimidating. He runs his hands down his chest to smooth down his (Hajime’s) jacket and takes a deep broken breath. ”What is it you want? Can you explain to me what you’re getting at?”

”I’m saying that I can’t have you touching me like last night anymore. At least not without wanting more. Needing more. I can’t.” Hajime can feel his hands shaking so he clenches them hard. That way, Oikawa won’t know how much this is affecting him. He tries to regulate his heartbeat back to a normal tempo but it doesn’t work. The weight of Oikawa’s eyes makes his heart jump right back into his throat. If he wasn’t so droopy from sleep, he surely would’ve started to panic. 

”Iwa—” 

”Whatever. I’m going.” Hajime turns around abruptly. Nothing has prepared him for this. No game, no win, or loss made him qualified to deal with Oikawa Tooru. He strides down the short path home with steady steps, even if his knees threaten to buckle down from under him multiple times down the road. 

He doesn’t get very far before Oikawa catches up with him. With a loud voice, he says; ”Where are you going, idiot? I’m spending the weekend at your house, remember?” 

Hajime loves Oikawa’s parents as if they were his own, but right now, he can’t help but hate them for leaving this weekend on a trip. They asked Hajime’s parents to look after him, so he wouldn’t be lonely. At first, that had felt like a blessing from God, but damn does Hajime loathe it now. He hates it to the point where he ignores Oikawa in order to step inside his home. There, he proceeds to walk up the stairs and into his room. As if he has any escape. Before he manages to slam the door shut, Oikawa’s foot darts forward. 

”Come on. Don’t be like this, you fool. You have to hear me out too. I listened to you, didn’t I?” 

Exhaling loudly, Hajime moves to his messy bed and sits down on it. At least this way, the rejection might not hit him as hard. Because that’s what he’s getting. Hajime made the mistake of feeling too much for someone that already has a thousand others feeling too much for him. Hajime can’t compare. He’s just his friend. Nothing more. Still, it would be a dick move not to listen to him so he nods and signals for Oikawa to speak even if his eyes are set on the dirty socks by his dresser. 

Instead of talking, Oikawa moves to sit next to him on the bed. The mattress dips, making his body bounce as it springs up again. With his eyes still on the socks, he misses the way Oikawa reaches out for him. Warm and surprisingly soft fingers land on the edge of his jawline and twists his head until he’s facing Oikawa. The sight he’s greeted with is _intense_. It burns and he wants to recoil into the general coldness of his room but he can’t.

He’s stuck. 

Oikawa doesn’t move his fingers away from his face but he does start to trail them up to his cheek. At this point, his entire palm is engulfing the left side of his face, filling it with warmth. Too much warmth yet not enough. It never is enough with Oikawa. Swallowing, Hajime tries to find his voice. ”What are you doing? You said you wanted to talk?” 

”Mm.” Oikawa smiles. It’s an unusual smile, a smile Hajime has never seen on him before. Hajime can’t dwell on it because Oikawa’s thumb is suddenly on his lip, tracing the slightly cracked skin. At first, he traces both of his lips collectively before reverting his attention to just his bottom lip. Before Hajime can react (not that he knows what he would’ve said or done), Oikawa whispers. ”It’s just us.” 

It’s not just them, Hajime wants to say. They’ve never touched each other’s lips like this. They’ve never confessed to wanting—needing—to touch each other before. Hajime isn’t sure what Oikawa is going on about, but if he opens his mouth to question it, Oikawa’s thumb would surely slip into his mouth, and _that_ is something that is definitely not them. 

”It’s you.” Oikawa licks his lips while staring at his thumb on Hajime’s lip. ”And me. It doesn’t have to mean anything if we don’t want it to...” 

Forgetting the finger on his lips, Hajime furrows his eyebrows in irritation. ”I told you bef-”

”But we want it to. Don’t we Iwa-chan?” 

Oikawa’s thumb is wet with his spit now, even wetting the parts of his lip that it’s touching but Hajime can’t think about that. Not now when his heart feels like it might spill out of his chest. It’s pushing against his lungs, making it more difficult to breathe, to fucking _function_. ”What?” 

”We want it to mean something, right?” Oikawa’s eyes are finally on his, and the only thing they show is intention. ”That’s what’s been bothering you, right? You overthink and push back when I touch you or wear your clothes because you don’t want to do it unless it means something, right?” 

Hajime nods. 

Oikawa scoots closer until his thigh is pressed tightly against Hajime’s. That too is warm. It’s January, how the hell can his body be so warm while Hajime feels like he’s freezing to death all the time? Oikawa breaks his internal rambling by tapping his other hand against his skull. ”Well, didn’t I tell you not to think because you have no brain?” 

This is familiar. This, Hajime can deal with. ”Fuck off, Ass-kawa.” 

”No.” Oikawa fists his hair and drags him forward in order to crash their lips together in an open-mouthed kiss. 

Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_. 

Oikawa doesn’t give Hajime a chance to hesitate or to lean back. To do anything, really. He takes everything with his lips and his hands that are buried deep in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. If Hajime thought that Oikawa was warm before, he's borderline _burning_ right now against him. The first kiss between two childhood friends should be sweet, chaste perhaps, but when has anything not been overwhelming with Oikawa?

Really, Hajime should’ve expected this.

When the initial holy shit feelings pass on, Hajime opens his mouth as well. He doesn’t bother to hide his desperation anymore and scrambles around in his bed until he’s sitting down on Oikawa’s lap. There, there aren’t any awkward limbs standing in their way. While Oikawa has his head contained between his arms, Hajime makes sure to show the proper attention to his back. His hands run up and down those forsaken muscles, making him moan against Oikawa’s lips when he feels them stretch beneath his touch. 

Hajime realizes soon that he needs to breathe to survive. If it was up to him, he would’ve happily spent all eternity without air if it ensured that he would be kissing Oikawa in the meantime. But it isn’t up to him, so he breaks the kiss with a gasp and leans back to suck all the air that Oikawa stole from his lungs. 

Oikawa doesn’t seem to be having the same struggle. ”You shouldn’t have thought so hard because it has always meant something for me,” he says with a calm voice.

Hajime kisses him again because he hates that he's feeling so much yet Oikawa seems so calm and collected. So, in the fashion of how their friendship has always worked, he makes it a challenge to ruin him. To make him feel exactly how Hajime is feeling. Maybe even more, if he dares to believe so. The first thing in order is to take off his jacket from Oikawa, which he does with a bit of struggle. Then, with one barrier gone, he drags his hands from Oikawa's broad shoulders down to the edge of his t-shirt. 

”Ah,” Oikawa breathes against his lips. It's high-pitched and so delicious. Hajime swallows it up with pride. Slipping his hands under his t-shirt, he starts caressing the heated skin just like Oikawa did just last night. Back when they were just friends. They weren't allowed to do that then, but Hajime can do this now. He traces each ab, each dip, and slope of his skin that he has spent so much time watching, wishing, craving. If he wasn't so busy kissing Oikawa, he would've easily leaned back to finally watch his hands touch what he's been wanting. 

But he has to save that for another day. 

Hajime shifts because the tent in his sweatpants becomes a tad too uncomfortable. Instead of sitting with each thigh around Oikawa's waist, he instead lets one fall in the area between his legs. Then, he feels it. Oikawa's hard-on pushing against his knee. 

”Sorry, it's just-” Oikawa pulls back from their kiss when he feels Hajime freezing up. He dares to look ashamed as if he didn't start the filthiest makeout session of Hajime's life just moments ago. He makes a move to lean back, but Hajime is on him before he has the chance. 

”That means something too, right?” Hajime murmurs against his lips and starts to slowly hump his thigh. His own erection starts to sing at the friction and it comes out in the form of a low moan. He can feel Oikawa's darkened eyes watching him, observing how he's bringing pleasure to himself by using his thigh.

Shifting a bit, his knee slides against Oikawa, providing him with some pleasure as well. Hajime doesn't really notice until Oikawa starts sweating and whining. His hands reach out for Hajime and they land on his waist where he rocks his body alongside his own humps. ”Please, please.” Oikawa doesn't bother to kiss him anymore as his lips don't seem to be able to shut up. His moans grow louder and louder and Hajime has half a heart to tell him that his parents might wake up from the disturbance but the other half is soaring over the fact that he made him this way. He succeeded. 

Embarrasingly, that brings him to the finish line. He comes with a long groan against Oikawa's ear, spilling inside his sweatpants. They are his favorites, and he isn't sure if he can wear them anymore without remembering this moment right here. Even though they're slowly being filled with his own release, he still humps Oikawa's thigh to ride out his orgasm with the hopes that Oikawa might come as well just from his knee. It's so sticky and disgusting but he kind of loves it.

”Did you?” Oikawa gasps, his hands going still. 

”Yeah,” Hajime mumbles, suddenly feeling tired because of the windwhirl of emotions he has gone through over the past hour. 

Oikawa comes right after his confirmation with a moan of his own, thighs twitching from below and beside Hajime's body. At some point, Hajime might make fun of him for coming so easily, with barely any friction at all, but he can't bring himself to do it right now. Not when this is still so fresh and the orgasmic haze still clouds his brain. It takes him a moment to collect himself, but when he does, it's as if nothing crazy has happened between them. ”Ugh, Iwa-chan. Get up, let's wash.” 

”Together?” Hajime asks, eyebrows rising up. 

Oikawa sighs, leaning back to gaze at Hajime properly. ”Yes, together. Why are you acting so surprised, idiot? Friends might not do it but lovers do, right?” 

”You'll never let this go, will you?” Hajime groans and jumps out of his comfortable seat on Oikawa's lap. Cringing at the moisture in his pants, he pads his way to the bathroom without waiting for a response. 

Of course, Oikawa being the shit that he is yells out: ”Never!”

**Author's Note:**

> oikawa.................... *loses mind* 
> 
> please let me know your thoughts, it motivates me so much! 
> 
> [tumblr.](https://okrableach.tumblr.com/)


End file.
